


Game Night: Sports Edition

by brightly_brightly



Category: POI - Fandom, Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: a little rough play, but not really kinky, sex happens, shameless fluff, shaw does not pay attention to the game, the machine is nosy and intrusive, there's no real bdsm in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 22:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9569492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightly_brightly/pseuds/brightly_brightly
Summary: Root and Shaw enjoy a sports game.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a birthday present for my girlfriend, a most excellent human being whom I would not have met if not for the shoot fandom. Thanks, Shoot!

Tonight is game night. No numbers to look after, no covers to maintain. Just Root and Shaw, a long stretch of open time, and ESPN.

It's only nine, but after a sparring match turned make out session turned thoroughly washing each other up in an extra long bubble bath, Root and Shaw have already transitioned into pajama mode. They're watching professional football and eating beef jerky and pretzels. Ok, Shaw is in charge of the eating.. and the football watching. Root is chewing on the end of her glasses and trying really hard to be interested in the sports. The Machine steamrolling her brain with statistics and facts every ten seconds or so doesn't help much.

Root eventually stops feigning an interest in the game. When Shaw leans forward and starts talking loudly at the tv, Root knows she's off the hook re girlfriend responsibilities. So she starts chatting with the Machine about other things.

The Machine has a lot of questions. Mostly about sex. The Machine is very, very curious about bodies, especially human bodies, and how they have sex.

"WHEN YOU AND AGENT SHAW ARE ENGAGED IN COITUS, HOW DO YOU DETERMINE WHEN YOU ARE FINISHED?"

Root tries to whisper as covertly as possible, not that it matters, Shaw is absorbed in her Ravens v Steelers match (bout? game).

"We never finish. Even when we're off doing other things, we're still.... engaging in coitus."

Saw stuffs a fistful of pretzels into her mouth. Someone does a run or something on the screen and she shouts, spraying crumbs everywhere. Clearly not bothered by Root and Machine's little conversation.

"I DO NOT UNDERSTAND."

"Well sex isn't always just bodies. Sometimes it's psychological. A word, an idea, a promise- all those things become sexual when we want."

"BUT YOU ARE NOT ENGAGED IN COITUS RIGHT NOW."

"You don't know that."

"BUT--"

"No, sweetie, anything can be--"

"Hey!"

Shaw abruptly mutes the tv and turns away from her game.

"Did you just call Robot Overlord 'sweetie'???"

"Yes, but--"

"No no no. That's your annoying term for ME. Not. Her."

Root turns her earpiece off. Shaw looks genuinely irked.

"Sorry, darlin'. Want me to make it up to you?"

Shaw blinks slowly, like a sleepy cat, then she shakes her head and turns the sound back on.

That, Root takes as a yes. So she gets up and straddles Shaw.

"Root, the game--"

Shaw doesn't get to finish that thought because Root's breasts in her thin t shirt are RIGHT THERE and she has to pay attention to them for a minute it would be wrong not to-

Root grabs Shaw's chin and angles her face up so she can kiss her. Without further preamble she shoves a hand down Shaw's sweats and starts working her up.

"Mmppphh" Shaw gurgles, half in pleasure, half in protest, but them Root leans to the side so she can see the game WHILE she's getting fucked. Good deal.

Root presses her fingers against Shaw's pussy, dragging her fingertips in teasing patterns, up and down, in circles, back and forth. Shaw rocks up into her, loving Root's weight on her lap, Root's smell all around her, the sexy happy sounds Root makes when she finally slides two fingers into Shaw's hot, tight, pussy and curls them upwards.

Shaw pulls Root in closer and kisses her neck, and then bites her soundly for being a distraction. Then bites her again because she likes it when Root whines and arches into her mouth.

Then bites her again, unintentionally, because the Ravens are up by 7 and it's halftime.

Root feels Shaw pulse around her fingers. She presses in deeper, sets a smooth rhythm, and fucks her until Shaw's sweating and gripping Root's shoulders and panting in her ear.

"Is your team... getting a lot of , unff, goals?" Root asks, in her most saccharine voice, so Shaw will get annoyed. A little annoyance is hot. Like Sriracha.

Shaw growls.

"Shuttup and fuck me, Root."

Root's nimble fingers dart up her shirt and pinch her nipple, viciously.

Shaw hisses and clenches down on Root's fingers inside her. Root pinches her other nipple, then twists it a little just for fun.

Shaw howls, but it sounds like an enjoyment howl not an agony howl, so Root keeps going.

"Your pussy is dripping Sameen. How much of that is me, and how much is this game?"

"Fucking god oh my-- it's---" Saw whimpers, then lets out a strangled little cry as Root pounds her into a thundering orgasm.

"60 PERCENT THAT MOTION YOU MAKE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON OR IN AGENT SHAW'S GENITALS, 20 PERCENT YOUR ATTENTION TO HER CHEST, AND 20 PERCENT THE ADRENALINE FROM WATCHING THE STEELERS LOSE BY MULTIPLE STANDARD DEVIATIONS."

Root chuckles, "trust me, none of the deviations in this apartment are standard."

"What?" Shaw croaks, still coming down.

"Nothing, nothing." Root winks at the laptop on the counter top behind them. The green light behind the webcam blinks once.

The game is nowhere near over, but Shaw slumps back into the couch. Retirement is kiiiiind of turning her into a tiny bit of a sexual lightweight.

Root waits until Shaw's breathing deepens and then starts to even out. Shaw's mouth slowly starts to fall open, just a bit.

So Root pinches her nipple again, good and hard.

"The fuck!"

Shaw sits up so fast she almost knocks Root off the couch.

"Baby," Root laughs, lightly shoving Shaw backwards, "that wasn't even your first round."

Shaw's eyes widen as Root smoothly skins to her knees on the floor in front of Shaw, slipping Shaw's sweatpants off as she goes down.

"That one was your warm up. THIS is your first round."

Shaw sinks her fingers into Root's silky hair, tips her head back, and loses herself in the sensation of Root's mouth on her.

"I WILL ADJUST YOUR ALARMS TO GO OFF AN HOUR LATER THAN USUAL TOMORROW," The Machine tells Root, when the game ends and Root is still licking and biting and pumping her fingers in and out and just generally fucking Shaw into the couch.

Root has nothing to add. Her mouth is occupied with other things.


End file.
